Marvel Preferences and Imagines (Taking Requests)

Paciencia y Fe

You were mad. No, you weren't mad. You were outraged, furious, livid, and whatever else Theseuraus.com could possibly come up with for a synonym of angry. You could take people shouting at you to "Get the fuck out of New England". You could deal with that. You could even take "You aren't a fucking New Englander and you never fucking will".

You delt with people attacking your identity on a daily basis. You would usually just walk away, fully aware that you could easily punch whoever said that and not feel sorry. Your husband hated that you would walk away from things like this. Your husband hated that you never addressed them because -your words, not his- it wasn't worth getting all riled up about.

Part of you knew that he didn't fully understand why you didn't just outright punch him. You couldn't. Your actions reflected on your entire community. Everything you did was under a microscope. If you punched him, a certain news outlet would report that you hated white Americans and this is why Hispanics are evil monsters that want to steal their jobs and their husbands. And then they would come after Chris.

You could already see the news header now: "Wife of Chris "Captain America" Evans Punched Man. Why Does Chris Stand for Her?"

The other part of you knew that it was your husband trying to stand up for you. He wouldn't take people to shit talking you. He barely could stand when the President tweeted out some tweet. Far too often, you or Scott would have to steal his phone or trade it for a Sam Adams so that Twitter wouldn't explode.

So to recap, you could take racist people saying racist things to you. But when the fucking joke of a President decided to tweet out that one of your representatives, and arguably one of the biggest supporters of the Hispanic community, should go back to the totally broken and crime infested places from which the came from...You had reached your limit.

You grabbed your phone and typed out a message on Twitter:

@realDonaldTrump How can you possibly insult these American women? No matter where their families are from, no matter what they identify as...these women are human beings that deserve the same respect that you give any white American male. Just because you disagree, just because you can't recognize that these women are fighting for a more fair and just gov't, doesn't mean you insult their cultural heritage. These warriors are more American than you will ever be. Grow the hell up and realize that not all Americans are white, male, billionaires who benefit from your presidency.

As soon as you tweeted that, your phone immediately began to blow up with notifications. You decided it would be the best idea to turn off your phone for the immediate future. You didn't want to stir up the pot any more than you had. Not to mention that your husband probably was in the process of tweeting something calling out the President.

You meant to set the phone down on the floor so you didn't have to look at a constant reminder of what just happened, you really did, but your emotions were still thriving. So instead of placing it on the floor, you threw the phone at the end of the bed where it bounced once and fell to the ground.

You heard a knock from your door and you glanced up to find Chris's Blue eyes searching your face for any signs you had seen the tweets. When he glanced down at the giant crack running down the side of the phone that was laying on the ground a few feet from his feet, he knew.

You could tell that he pieced together what had happened, but you wanted to be strong. You didn't want to let what the President say get to you. You didn't want to seem weak. The President had said and implied things that were way worse. He had. It was just...

"Hey," Chris said, laying down on the bed. You turned away from him, not wanting to look at him. Your fingers found the necklace your mother had given you. It was an old locket belonging to your grandmother who had came to America when she was young. It was the locket your grandmother had given your mother when she married your father. It was the locket your mother gave to you when you got married to Chris. When you pressed it to your heart, you could hear your grandmother whispering in your heart.

Paciencia y fe. Paciencia y fe, mija. Paciencia y fe. Van a mejorar las cosas.

You could feel Chris traces the curve of your hip as his hand wandered, searching for yours. You reached over with the hand that wasn't grasping your locket to intertwine with his. You could feel the tears begin to fall down your face, leaving a tremble in your jaw and your eyes blurry.

You let go of your locket for only a moment to use the heel of your palm to brush away any signs of weakness, but it was too late. Chris let go of your hand to that he could slowly shift your body so that you could face him, misty eyes and all.

"It isn't fair. I just can't. I'm not evil. My family isn't evil. My ethnicity isn't evil. WHy do people attack us like this? Like we are some terrorist organization that wants to end America,"

The tears had started to fall faster now. Chris's thumb had sweep some of them away, but enough fell through to create a small puddle on the matress as it slowly seeped into the sheets.

"Paciencia y fe, mi esposa. Paciencia y fe," He whispered, staring into your eyes. You let out a short, hiccup filled laugh at his pronounciation. He wasn't terrible at Spanish, but he certainly gave away the fact that he wasn't spanish with his New England Accent causing him to make the words sound a bit weird.

"Hey!" he stage-whispered melodramatically, "Are you laughing at my Spanish?"

You nodded, laughing a bit more. He placed a hand over his heart and gasped aas if he was in a telanovella.

"Say," You started through your laughter, "Say, park the car in the Havard yard,"

He gasped again, faking a glare at you.

"That joke isn't funny,"

"Yes, it kinda is. Just a little bit" You held out your thumb and your finger to show a litte gap of air in between.

"I hate you" He turned away from you in fake frustration.

"No you don't you liar," You said, using his tactics to flip him over so that he faced you once again.

"Fiiiinneee, I just really don't like you right now," He rolled his eyes.

"Still a lie," you point out.

"Fine...I guess I love you,"

"YES!"